


His Girl

by rpfwriters



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Gen, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, insecure reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:03:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpfwriters/pseuds/rpfwriters
Summary: It’s your first Supernatural convention.





	His Girl

 

Going to a convention for your favorite show had been on your bucket list for a handful of years, and finally, after working double shifts and all the extra overtime you could, you scraped together every last penny, and had been able to go. General admission tickets only, but you were going nonetheless.

You joined a Facebook page and lucked out in finding a handful of women that were looking for one more to share the cost of the hotel room. After finding one of the cheapest flights, you booked a round trip, giggling the entire time.

It was Friday night, you were tired and your anxiety was spiraling. After taking a hot shower and changing into your pajamas, you slipped out of the room and slid down the hall with a heaving sigh. You were exhausted from the whirlwind of activity, the excitement of meeting your roommates for the next three days, seeing several of the cast members on stage, sharing crazy stories.

You wanted to be able to turn your brain off, to stop it from telling you that the entire weekend was a waste of money, that you could used the funds for a down payment on a car, or start up that savings account you kept putting off. You could have done hundreds of other things, but just this once, you spent the money on something that made you happy. That didn’t mean your brain agreed.

With a groan, you ran your hand over your face and pushed your head back into the wall. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it seemed to catch the attention of the person that was walking by.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, concern coating his words.

_Nope. In fact, I’m the opposite of okay, but thanks for stopping by._

“Just peachy,” you snarked, rolling your eyes hard enough to hurt.

“You sure?” His voice was much closer than before.

Your eyes flew open, and there you were, face to face with Matt Cohen. “I uh… I mean, what?” you stammered.

Matt chuckled and it made his dark eyes sparkle. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ve been better.” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“That’s not good,” he murmured as he dropped down to the floor, sitting cross-legged, his head tipped, full attention on you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You were shaking your head before he even finished his question. “I don’t want to waste your time. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than listen to another sob story.”

“I’m not leaving until I’m convinced that you’re alright,” he announced, determination set in his jaw.

“Matt, please,” you murmured, feeling super shy and embarrassed. Your eyes fell to your lap where your hands were wringing together. You hated talking about yourself to your best friends, even your family, but at that moment in time your celebrity crush was sitting across from you, asking if you were alright, seemingly genuinely worried about you.

The silence stretched for several long moments before Matt pressed his hand to your knee. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but I won’t leave you alone.”

“I’m not alone,” you murmured, nodding your head to the hotel door to your right.

“And yet, here you are, sitting in the hallway with me.”

Damn, he had a point. You huffed and squeezed your eyes closed. “Final chance to back out, Cohen.”

Matt scooched closer and squeezed your knee. “I’m not going anywhere,” he swore.

You thought it would be difficult to open up, not only to a complete stranger, but a celebrity. They had their own hectic lives to deal with. Surely, the last thing they’d ever want to do is listen to you blubber on about your insecurities and crippling anxiety. But Matt appeared to be the exception to the rule. He was different, he listened to you, and he  _actually_ seemed to care.

The topic about your anxieties was over before you knew it, and most of the negative voices in your mind had ceased, but Matt didn’t move to leave. Then again, neither had you. In fact, the conversation moved easily onto other topics, and before you knew what had happened, the two of you had talked all night.

The phone in Matt’s pocket buzzed. “Damn,” he muttered, sliding his thumb over the screen, silencing the alarm. “It’s late… I gotta get ready.”

“Ready for what?” It felt as if only a handful of hours passed, not the entire night.

Matt stood and stretched, arms over his head, a deep groan leaving him. “First panel starts in two hours.” He held his hand out and wiggled his fingers. With his help, you were standing on numb legs, and your mind seemed to realize the fact that you had indeed been up all night, and you couldn’t suppress a yawn.

“I’m sorry I wasted your night.” And there go your raging insecurities once again.

“You did nothing of the sort,” he argued, his hand reaching for yours and squeezing it. “I promise.”

“Thank you.” You nodded reluctantly and hoped he couldn’t hear the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Before you could register what was happening, Matt pulled you into him, wrapped his arms around you, and pressed a kiss to your crown. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“I uh, I guess? I’m in general admission seating,” you admitted, your cheeks turning crimson.

He looked at his phone and started typing out a message. “I never asked your name.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, pushing up to your toes as curiosity started to take control.

Shoving his phone into his pocket, Matt was smiling wide when he said, “I’ll see you later.”

You managed to dodge the impending barrage of questions by all but throwing yourself into the bathroom. Staring at the mirror, you went over the events of the last eight hours. Had you really just spent an entire night talking with Matt Cohen? It appeared you did, and without making an utter fool of yourself. If you did, Matt didn’t say anything about it.

Matt had been amazingly patient with you, holding your hand and squeezing it in silent support when you were talking about something difficult, telling you all the right things at all the right times. He had given up his entire night to make sure that you, a giant nobody, were okay.

You hurriedly took a shower and brushed your teeth, emerging from the bathroom with a towel around you. It was utter chaos in the room. Every single one of your five roommates were scrambling around the room, each one talking over the next, throwing clothes to one another, and shouting commands.

Fighting a yawn, you quickly got dressed, grabbed your cell phone, key card, and wallet, shoved them into your bag and escaped before they could notice you.

* * *

“I’m sorry, but there’s something wrong with your ticket,” repeated the irritated looking blonde behind the table.

Your stomach was in your throat and your hands were shaking. “I… ummm… can you try again?”

She did, but she wasn’t happy about it, and neither were the people behind you. “Yeah, sorry, it’s not working.”

“So, what do I do?”

Rolling her eyes, she called over someone who you assumed was her manager. “What seems to be the trouble?” she asked you kindly, her hand held out as she steered you off to the side.

There were tears burning your eyes and you had to swallow before you could answer. “My… my ticket isn’t working?”

“Let me have a look.”

You handed over your ticket and started to wring your hands as she looked it over with a crucial eye.

“It’s not fake,” you blurted out, blushing intensely in embarrassment.

She chuckled and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m positive it isn’t. Sometimes we get a glitch in the software, it doesn’t like to cooperate all the time. Come over with me, and I’ll get this fixed.”

You blew out a stuttering breath as you followed her to the other end of the table where she pulled out a full clipboard and uncapped a pen.

“Your name, dear?”

After giving it to her, she started to flip through the papers, double checking each name until she reached yours.

“Well, that explains it,” she laughed.

“I don’t… I can still go in?” Your heart was thundering in your chest as butterflies swarmed your stomach.

“Of course you can. It’s just this ticket?” The ticket you had purchased with your hard earned cash was ripped in half, making your eyes go wide and a loud gasp fall from your lips. “It’s for general admission only.”

Whether it was true or not, you could feel hundreds of eyes on you, judging you for only being able to afford general admission. “It was all I could get.”

“No one’s judgin’, sweetheart,” she murmured as she reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “Here, let me show you.”

You stood close to her and stared down at the paper, finding your name quickly. Next to your name was general admission and the ticket number, but it was scratched out. Next to that, in red, uppercase lettering was written; VIP PASS.

“That can’t be right. I didn’t… I can’t affo-”

“It was a gift,” she explained. She placed the clipboard onto the table and fumbled around in a box until she found what she was looking for. Less than a minute later, she took a look at the placard and made note of the number next to your name on the sheet of paper.

You were shaking your head in disbelief as she brought it over your head. Once the placard was in place, dangling against your black tank, your eyes following it closely, you took a deep breath. This couldn’t be happening, it had to be a dream. But if this was a dream, had you really not talked with Matt all night?

Her hand was on your shoulder once again. “Do you need to sit down? I can call over one of our support members if you like.”

“Um, no, I uh… I’m okay,” you stammered. “Are there any limitations for this?”

“Nope. It’s a free pass into anything and everything. All the meet and greets, photo ops, and autographs you want, they’re yours. It also gets you into the Saturday Night Concert.”

“Damn, that’s… I don’t even -”

She reached for a schedule and handed it to you. “Now, if anyone gives you any trouble, you show them your pass, and tell them to come and see me, okay?” With her eyebrow arched, she pointed to the tag on her shirt.

“Thank you, Helen,” you said, a newfound confidence surging through you. “Wait, I have a question. Where do I sit?”

Turned out, there was a VIP section in the middle of the room, and you got to sit in the first row. Shit, you couldn’t have asked for better seats. You got amazing photos and videos, had a riot with the people that sat next to, and behind you, and, if you weren’t mistaken, Matt had shot you a few winks during his panel.

Now, you could have definitely imagined it, but there was no imagining the circles under his eyes, or the numerous times he yawned loudly. He had even made a comment about needing stronger coffee. Everyone around you laughed, but there was a sting of guilt that shot through you. He was tired because of you, because you needed to be taken care of.

Before you knew it, the panels were over, and the room had started to clear out for the auction. Since you didn’t have any money to spend, you figured you’d head upstairs, hit up the photo ops. There were three lines; one for Rob and Rich, one for Jim Beaver and Kim Rhodes, the other for Matt. Just the thought of getting a picture with Matt after last night made your heart race, so you wandered over to the head of the line for Rob and Rich, showed them your pass, and sure enough, you got to cut in line.

Rob and Rich each gave you wide smiles and hugs before anything was brought up about what you wanted for the picture.

“I uh… I don’t know?” You shrugged your shoulders. “This is all sort of new for me.”

Rich gave you a wink. “We got a virgin, Rob,” he laughed.

Rob grabbed your hand and looked at you with sparkling eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ll be gentle.”

Since you were already facing Rob, Rich pulled you into him, pressed his mouth next to your ear, and said, “Robbie might be, but I sure as hell won’t be.”

You erupted into laughter as Rob pressed himself against you, his arms on top of Rich’s, their hands gripping the other person tight.

Chris was laughing as he raised the camera. “You ready?”

Whether you were or not, Chris took the picture. The flash was blinding, but you managed to keep your eyes open. Rob and Rich each gave you another hug and pressed kisses to your cheeks at the same time. You definitely were not expecting your picture to be taken, but the flash lit up the room once more.

“Couldn’t help it,” Chris laughed.

You waved before leaving the room, the sounds of two grown men greeting the next person in line as if they were puppies echoing in your ears. The doors to the room for Jim and Kim had just closed, and the line for Matt was coming to an end. You ran over and flashed your pass, immediately putting a stop to the VIP treatment.

“I’m okay to wait,” you said.

“Pass means you can go to the front of the line,” the guy said.

With a shrug, you waved your hand. “I’m good.”

There were about fifteen people in front of you, and the line was moving pretty fast, so you weren’t really prepared for Matt’s eyes when they landed on you. You sucked in a breath when he perked up and gave you a dazzling smile. The few ladies in front of you whirled around and stared hard at you, wondering just who the hell you were to earn a smile like that from Matt.

As soon as it was your turn, Matt lunged towards you, grabbed your hand, and pulled you into his arms. “I was beginning to think you were ditching me, sweetheart,” he murmured against your ear.

You about melted against him at the way his words ghosted along your skin, pulling goosebumps to the surface. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” you breathed, returning his embrace.

“You kids ready?” the photographer asked.

“What do you want to do?” Matt asked, his hands holding yours, his previously tired eyes sparkling, but you chalked it up to the bright lights.

You managed to bite your tongue and keep your comment PG rated. “Dip me?” you suggested, placing one of his hands on the small of your back and raising the other in yours. Something flashed in his eyes and it took away your breath.

Matt gnawed on his bottom lip as he slid his hand from the small of your back to rest between your shoulder blades, set your hand on the back of his neck, and started dipping you. His free hand swept down your side, over your hip, and to the middle of your thigh, where he squeezed the back of it and tugged.

Somehow, you managed to keep your eyes on his, even as he notched your leg on his hip. It wasn’t easy, by any means, what with the way he was holding you, how you could feel every ripple of muscle as it flexed beneath his skin, the way his fingers were digging into you, tugging you impossibly closer.

Right when the picture was taken, it felt like he were about to kiss you, but that was ridiculous, right? He was a celebrity and you weren’t. So why was there this palpable tension hanging in the air?

“That was good, Matt,” the photographer said, snapping the pair of you from… whatever was going on.

You were blushing when you pulled your leg down and straightened your shirt. “That was… I um… thank you.” Before Matt could say anything, you bolted from the room, and ran down the hall, disappearing around the corner right as you heard him call your name.

* * *

You almost didn’t go to the concert that night. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing Matt again. The photo op and the was-it-really-happening-almost-kiss was more than enough for your already amplified emotions. But someone had gone out of their way to make sure you enjoyed yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was let anyone down.

With a fresh set of clothes and some pissed off roommates glaring at you - they had heard  _all_  about your photo op with Matt - you made your way through the auditorium and found your front row seat.

Once she was seated, you turned to Sarah, the woman to your right, and asked, “Does Matt usually come to these things?”

“Hell yeah,” she answered with a wide smile.

“Great,” you murmured, forcing a smile.

Sarah tried to engage you, talk to you about what to expect, but you were too busy focusing on the bottomless pit your stomach had just cannonballed into. Before you could give in and run from the auditorium, Rob was at the microphone.

“Good evening, Y/Town. How you guys doin’?” he asked with a million dollar smile.

The room erupted into cheers and applause, and you couldn’t fight the pull any longer. You joined in, clapping your hands over your head and smiling wide when Rob’s eyes settled on you. He gave you a wink and called Rich over.

“Yeah, man,” Rich drawled, draping his arm over Rob’s shoulders and following his best friend’s gaze. “I see her.”

Several girls behind you shrieked and waved their hands, but you knew who the two men meant; you. You waved at them quickly, hoping they wouldn’t pay you any further attention. You were about to find out that they had every intention of giving you all of their attention.

Rich jumped off the stage - which was less than a foot off the ground - and stood in front of you. “How’s our convention virgin doing?”

“Fine,” you murmured into the microphone that had been all but shoved into your face.

“Now, darlin’,” he purred, wrapping an arm around you and dragging you onto the stage. You tried to pull free, but Rich was a lot stronger than he looked, and the last thing you really wanted to do was cause a scene. “You’re telling me, that after our incredible photo op,” a series of  _awwwww_  spread like wildfire through the room, “you’re just… fine?”

“That won’t do,” Rob lamented, his head shaking sadly.

You looked over your shoulder to see a larger than life version of the two photos that had been taken earlier that day. A smile tugged at your lips at the memory, and Rich squeezed you into him.

“There’s our girl,” he cheered and pressed a big kiss to your cheek.

Rob echoed his friend’s celebration. “I say we keep this going,” he said as he strummed his guitar. “Sing with us, Y/N.”

“What? No… I… I can’t,” you sputtered, your neck and face growing warm.

Rich grabbed one of your hands and Rob took hold of the other, but it was Rich who leaned over and whispered, “Please stay? It’ll make Matty’s day.”

You had no idea what was happening anymore. You had gone from someone who could barely afford the weekend, to meeting Matt Cohen while you were in the middle of feeling guilty about the weekend, to then getting a VIP pass for the entire weekend, onto two amazing photo ops, and now you were on stage with Louden Swain, and Rich was telling you that you being there would make Matt’s day? How was this your life?

“Oh… um, okay?” you rasped, forcing a small smile when applause erupted through the room.

Rich gave you a hug and held your arm up in triumph. “We got ourselves a backup singer!”

One of the sound guys appeared beside you, shoving Rich away playfully. “It’s just for show,” he said, holding the mic out, thumb hovering over the power switch. “It’s up to you if you want to be heard.”

“Thank you,” you sighed heavily in relief, reaching for the mic with a shaky hand.

“Good luck,” he added before disappearing behind the black curtain.

You stood off to the side, close to Billy, trying to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible, not that the guys were having any of that. They kept coming over, shooting you winks and giving you a thumbs up. Every other song, a cast member would come out and sing a cover of a song, their choice. Kim and Briana came over and gave you the biggest hugs, telling you how excited they were that you could join them; it was all getting to be too much.

And then Matt appeared at your side. Rather than make his entrance through the curtains, he had come over from stage right, hopping on stage, effectively scaring you. When you jumped and shrieked, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and hugged you from behind, chuckling deeply in your ear.

Despite the fact that you were in a room full of people, and you now held most of their attention, you relaxed in Matt’s grip. Your hand dropped to his wrist, hanging loosely around it, and your head lolled back to his shoulder.

“Having a good time?” he purred into your ear.

“More than I’ve ever had,” you admitted, craning your neck to look at him, and shit, it took your breath away. Matt’s eyes were sparkling mischievously as they scanned your face.

“Good,” was all he said before pressing a kiss to your forehead and disentangling himself to join Rob and Rich in the middle of the stage.

“What was that all about? You making a move on  _our_  girl?” you heard Rich ask in a teasing tone, but you couldn’t pay attention to anything that Matt or Rob said. You were too busy trying to remember how to breathe.

The music started to play, and Billy was trying to get your attention for some reason. You swallowed thickly and, even though it was turned off, raised the microphone to your mouth, ready to ‘sing’ backup. Matt spun on his heel in a full circle, coming to a stop, facing you, Rob and Rich flanking him.

> _I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day_  
>  When it’s cold outside I’ve got the month of May  
> Well I guess you’d say  
> What can make me feel this way?  
> My girl (my girl, my girl)  
> Talkin’ ‘bout my girl (my girl)

You burst out laughing, a hand over your mouth, your shoulders shaking as they danced like they were a group of singers from the 1960’s. You didn’t know why, but you thought they’d stop advancing, turn, and sing to the crowd, but they didn’t.

> _I’ve got so much honey the bees envy me_  
>  I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees  
> Well I guess you’d say  
> What can make me feel this way?  
> My girl (my girl, my girl)  
> Talkin’ 'bout my girl (my girl ooh)

You turned on the microphone and said through your tears, “Stop it.” Matt gave you a wink that kick started your heart and made the hair on your arms stand.

> _I don’t need no money, fortune, or fame (ooh hey hey hey)_  
>  I’ve got all the riches baby one man can claim (oh yes I do)  
> I guess you’d say  
> What can make me feel this way?  
> My girl (my girl, my girl)  
> Talkin’ 'bout my girl (my girl)

The audience was cheering loudly as Matt advanced on you. Rob and Rich stayed back, jumping up and down happily. Billy’s back was pressed to yours, forcing you to move until you were standing directly in front of Matt. Your eyes flicked around, searching for a way to escape, but there wasn’t one.

Rich took the mic from Matt as he and Rob started singing lead vocals. Once he was sure you weren’t going to bail, Billy grabbed your mic and stepped away, leaving you and Matt standing center stage.

Matt took your hands and lifted them to his shoulders, holding them there for a beat before dragging his fingers along your arms and down your sides. His hands were hot and heavy on your hips and back as he started to dip you, just like earlier that day in your photo op. You sucked in a stuttering breath as he grabbed your thigh, pushing his fingers into it, signaling what you were to do.

As your back arched, you lifted your leg and dug your fingers into Matt’s muscular shoulders. Your head lolled back and it took everything you had not to melt when he ran his nose along your neck, pulling in a deep breath as he went.

When his nose brushed your lips, you raised your head just enough that you could feel his breath, hot and rapid, against your mouth. There was no hesitation this time, you grabbed the back of his neck and pressed your lips to his. The hand that was between your shoulder blades moved to curl in your hair, angling your head so that when he slanted hs mouth over yours, it gave him the perfect angle to slide his tongue between your lips.

Everything and everyone melted away as you kissed. It wasn’t what you had spent hours daydreaming about; it was better than that. Sparks danced along your skin, tingling from your head, down to your toes, leaving nothing untouched. It was amazing and the best kiss you could have ever wished for.

You were breathless when you registered the weight of Rich’s hand on your shoulder.

“Get a room,” he teased.

“You guys are ruining our concert,” Rob joked, hands on his hips, guitar pressed to his back.

Matt rolled his eyes and worked at untangling himself from you. Reaching back, he grabbed your hand, pulled you off the stage, and out of the auditorium.


End file.
